


Each and Every Season

by InaccessibleRail, Unclesteeb



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Breaking Up & Making Up, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2017, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Religion, Religious Content, Skinny!Steve, Sufjan Stevens- Freeform, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 04:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InaccessibleRail/pseuds/InaccessibleRail, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unclesteeb/pseuds/Unclesteeb
Summary: He finds their bodies drifting closer than he expected them to. Sense memory. They know each other in a way that ingrains itself into their muscles, their bones. Their bodies know how to be close. Steve rests his forehead on the bottom of Bucky's jaw. Bucky feels Steve's hot breath coming out in slow sighs against his neck. He pulls Steve in a little closer with the hand he has resting on Steve's back and feels Steve huff a little laugh. Nothing exists in the entire world but this- and all Bucky can think of is how the song’s about to end. He can't even enjoy the way Steve's hand comes up to the back of his neck because it's all going to stop.This is a story about leaving, coming back again, unconditional love, friendship, growing up and fate.





	Each and Every Season

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this fic based on some amazing art by inaccessiblerail. Look for it in the fic!

** Spring- then **

_“He appointed the moon for seasons: the sun knoweth his going down.”_

After she's done reading, Ms. Penny asks them, “Now can anyone tell me what they think that means?”

Bucky shifts in his seat. He reads his bible with his mom and Becca sometimes, but he still has no idea what the verse means. Why did God have to make everything so confusing? Bucky raises his hand and decides that he wants to ask Ms. Penny that question instead. 

“James,” she starts and she looks like she wants to laugh at him a little bit. He instantly feels guilty. He just really wanted to know. “When you accept-”

“It's confusing,” comes a little voice from behind Bucky. He turns to look at who's talking, since normally he knows which one of his friends is speaking but this voice seems unfamiliar to him. “He's right.” It's a little blonde kid with brown glasses on. Bucky can tell from where he's sitting that his blue shirt is too big for him. Maybe it was his older brother’s. Bucky gives Becca his old clothes sometimes so that she can play in the dirt in them. Bucky thinks his old clothes are better than that but when something’s too small he gives it to Becca anyway because that's what his mom told him to do and he's a good listener. 

“I mean, okay,” the kid pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “I think in this part God wants us to know that it's okay when it gets dark because that's something He did. But I get confused a lot when my mommy reads the Bible to me at night time. She says that's why I have to come to this class even though she gets to sit up at big church.”

Bucky looks at Ms. Penny at the same time he hears various hums and words of approval from the other kids in his class. He's okay with not having to go to big church because he has to sit still and quiet when he's up there, but he still wants to know why God had to be so confusing when he was telling those men how to write his book. 

“That's because God wanted you to think about everything he said really, really hard.” Ms. Penny smiles big at Bucky then continues her lesson. When Sunday school is over, she calls both Bucky and the other kid with the glasses to her desk. Bucky gulps. This has only happened one time before and that time he was in big trouble. 

“James, Steven is new here and I was thinking that since you both were having a little trouble today, maybe I could talk to your parents about getting you two some time to maybe play and read the Bible together. How does that sound?”

Bucky shrugs and then looks over to Steven who repeats the same gesture. 

They really did become fast friends after that, sticking to each other faster than you could say ‘crazy glue.’ Bucky teaches Steve how to write in cursive. Steve teaches Bucky that the best bedroom forts are the ones where you and put the lights on the floor so that the shadows show up on the sheets surrounding you. Steve teaches Bucky new words like ‘habitat and twilight’. Together they take turns reading bible verses so that they both can understand them come Sunday morning. 

One night, Bucky asks Steve if he thinks that God loves someone even if they don't make all the right choices. Steve tells him that he didn't know. It’s okay, because Bucky doesn’t know either. 

Later, years later, Bucky will think of Ms. Penny when he thinks of Steve Rogers as he was then- just a little thing with his floppy hair and glasses. 

It takes years for Bucky to forgive her. 

He never stops wondering if God’s forgiven him for that. 

** Spring- now **

“What do you two look so happy about?” Bucky asks his friends. They’re looking mighty proud of themselves as they take their seats in the restaurant. Nobody should look that excited to sit down. They're up to something.

Sam wraps his arm around Natasha’s shoulder and draws her close to him. Her left hand comes up to rest on his chest. That's when Bucky sees the ring.

Bucky's been to three weddings, which is a bit of a feat for a guy in his mid-twenties that grew up in the church. He was younger for the first two, and just last year went to the wedding of one of his college buds, Jeremy. They were fine enough, but the entire time he couldn't shake the feeling that they were a waste of both time and energy. He understood the tradition and purpose of it all, sure. But you can get married without spending twenty-thousand dollars on lace doilies. 

“We’re getting married!” Natasha exclaims, holding her ring finger out for Bucky to eye. 

Natasha and Sam have been dating for almost a decade, give or take. Together they're an unstoppable force in Bucky's life, a constant. Sam and Natasha, Natasha and Sam, you could even combine their names together into one word (natandsam- Bucky knows. He's tried it while drunk) and they'd still answer. He's always appreciated the layer of underlying respect that they've had for each other. It's unwavering and steady and it keeps them grounded through all the things that throw Bucky flat on his back. Their love makes them stronger. If anyone deserves thousand dollar cake-cutting knives,Bucky guesses it's them. 

So when he smiles and says, “Congratulations!” It's mostly genuine. 

Sam and Natasha spend the next few minutes retelling Bucky about their proposal (Sam took her to the restaurant across from the corner store where he first asked her out in ninth grade and had a violinist play for them for about five minutes before Natasha stared him down and asked for her ring. You can't get anything past that woman.) and their wedding plans thus far (they're thinking a winery in Connecticut and they know how pretentious it sounds, but a little peace and quiet wouldn't hurt any of them). Bucky finds himself actually getting lost in the conversation. They just seem so excited about everything that he finally stops tallying up prices mentally and manages to listen. He even musters up some genuine excitement. Sam's talking with his hands- something he only seems to do when he's bordering overwhelmed status. It's joyful though, their happiness radiates off of them so strongly and so loud that you can't help but get washed up in it along with them. They break for a brief moment just to stare at each other, red cartoon heart-eyes practically appearing when they do.

Bucky allows himself just a split-second daydream- the very smallest break from

reality- and imagines what it would be like to love someone that much. He thinks he has. Once. 

“Come grab a round with me.” Sam says, breaking into Bucky's mind and snatching him back. 

“It's _lunchtime_.”

“Okay, wet blanket. I just got engaged. Come on. Have a few sips and I'll finish it off. It's Saturday, Barnes. Live a little.” 

Bucky gives Sam his very best put-upon look but follows his orders gladly, accompanying Sam to the bar to grab three beers. 

“So you're my best man,” Sam tells him after he's ordered. He's picked some good choices, all very light with low ABV. There are plenty of things to love about Sam Wilson, and one of them is his impeccable ability to pick a correct beer. Another one of them is that he already knows Bucky's his best man. He's nothing if not timely. 

“Okay.” Bucky replies, giving Sam a big smile. There's something about Sam that just makes you want the guy to be happy. He's always been that way. “Who else is in the wedding party?”

“Oh all the guys, so far! I've asked Gabe, Luke, Clint and Steve and they've all said yes. Sorry Buck, but you're my final confirmation. You know what they say, save the worst for la-”

“Steve?” Bucky asks. Then he registers the insult. “You're a jerk and that's not even how the saying goes. But, Steve?”

Sam stares at him, furrowing his eyebrows. “Yeah Steve.”

“But-” Bucky's stuttering. “He went and disappeared like eight years ago. Nobody's heard from him.”

“Correction; _you_ haven't heard from him because you guys broke up at eighteen and you let it ruin your life. The rest of us are still in contact.”

“But- he's-” Bucky's a pretty eloquent guy. It comes with his profession. He spends his days creating long, languid sentences and using words that sometimes even he has to use a dictionary to remember the meanings of. He's not easily flustered. 

“Just because you stopped talking to Steve doesn't mean that I did, Bucky. And I happen to want one of my closest friends in my wedding party. So reserve a pair of big boy pants along with your suit and find a way to deal with it.” Sam's voice is stern but his eyes are soft. He's been dreading this, Bucky realizes. He's been pulling himself between Steve and Bucky since the engagement, trying to find a way to break it to Bucky soft so that he doesn't get upset. About _his_ wedding. He doesn't want Bucky to get upset about his wedding party choices. It takes Bucky all of a second to put himself in check. 

“Yeah, okay.” Bucky says. He claps Sam on the shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Bucky's body feels like a livewire, thrumming with nerves and energy that's just waiting to have somewhere to go. He swallows hard enough to push it down. “That makes sense.” 

Sam just blinks at him for a moment and it makes Bucky's gut swoop out from under him. He was prepared for more of a fight. He wills himself not to get upset about that. “Nice. Good. That's good to hear. Plus, the wedding’s not going to be until the fall. You have a ways to get a date yet.”

Bucky gives him a smile that he hopes doesn't look as nervous as he feels. 

He goes home that night (after two too many beers with Sam and Natasha- low ABV be dammed) and logs on to the dusty Facebook account that he hasn't bothered with in years. He types in one name.

_Steve Rogers_

He's flooded with results, but the top one with sixty-four mutual friends is pretty clear. It's Steve. It's his Steve.

He's still wearing glasses, which makes something inside Bucky very happy, and he looks good. He looks happy in his pictures as Bucky clicks through them (while worrying just a little about Steve's lack of internet security). He does his best not to feel stabs of jealousy with every picture and mostly fails. Steve's glasses are still brown and tortoise-shell. Steve's shirts are still a half a size too big for him, which makes so much damn sense in Bucky's mind because Steve's always seen himself as bigger than he really is. Bucky has the scars from the fist fights to prove it. It sets something in his universe on track knowing that somewhere Steve Rogers is still out there acting like he's ten feet tall when he doesn't even hit six. 

Bucky breathes in and out, letting the warm air fill his nose so slowly it tickles. He's going to be seeing Steve for the first time in years sooner rather than later. 

_Fall in love then fall apart_ , he thinks. He hovers his computer mouse over the ‘add friend’ button. 

_Things will end before they start_. He clicks it. 

** Spring- then  **

“I just think that we could prolly build a boat as good as Noah.”

Steve pushes his glasses up his nose, “it’s called an ark.” 

“Whatever. I just think we could build one.”

“Where? My house is too tiny.” 

Bucky stops his swing suddenly. “Mine is too. Maybe we could build it on the beach.” 

Steve smiles, he lost his front tooth last week. Bucky's kinda jealous. It looks cool. “The beach is big enough!” 

Steve gets into the swing next to Bucky. He doesn't like to swing too much because it makes him feel sick. Bucky kicks off again and says, “I think we should not save bees.”

“But bees do lotsa good stuff.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Bucky got stung by a bee last week playing with his sister at the park. He thinks they can really go away. 

“They make more flowers! My mom told me. They get some stuff on them and then fly around and spread it everywhere. Pollen. My mom says I'm allergic to it.”

“Why would you want to save bees if they make you sneeze?”

Steve has to think about that one pretty hard. “Cuz I like flowers. When we get big and I get a job I'm gonna get you some flowers.” 

Bucky laughs, “for what?” 

“For being my best friend. You'll be so happy you'll give me a big hug and then buy me some candy.” 

Bucky's laughing so hard he has to stop his swing. “Okay! That sounds fun!” 

He hops off then races to the monkey bars. “Hey Steve!” 

“What?”

“My mommy told me about getting married yesterday. You know what getting married is?”

Steve makes a face like he just bit into a lemon. “Duh. You find a girl you love and you live with her and kiss her on the mouth.” 

Bucky jumps onto the monkey bars and holds on tight with both hands. Steve sits down on the platform on the other side and pulls his drawing book and a pencil out of his backpack. “I told my mommy I wanted to get married to you and not some dumb girl.” 

“Not even Natasha?” Steve asks him, looking up from his drawing. “She has cool hair and runs really fast.”

Natasha is the new girl at their school. She talks kinda funny, but Steve says that's because she's from a country called Russia and was adopted. Steve and Bucky's other best friend Sam both like her alot but Bucky's not so sure. He frowns and says, “She told me my name sounded like a dog’s name. I don't wanna marry her.”

Steve thinks about it for a minute and says, “I bet she's gonna marry Sam anyway. They're best friends now. They made a secret handshake.”

“I think we should make a secret handshake. Then get married, ‘cept for when I asked my mommy about it she said we can't ‘cuz you're a boy.”

“That's dumb,” Steve says and goes back to drawing. 

Bucky's arms are getting tired so he lets go of the monkey bars and lands on his feet. “Mommy told me that I was cute for wanting to marry you, but God says we can't kiss on the mouth and we aren't ‘llowed to get married.” 

Steve looks up at him again and makes a really sad-looking face. “God says so?”

“That's what my mommy says. I thought God wanted us to be happy? What if I'm not happy if I don't marry you?” 

Steve stands up so fast his drawing book falls to the ground. “I know what to do! We can just live together and not kiss on the mouth! It's like getting married but it's allowed! We can make a fort in our house!”

“We can sleep in it and never take it down! We’ll be in charge since we will be old!”

“Yeah! I'll make lotsa money since I'll be an astronaut and we can make the biggest fort ever in a really big house!”

Steve's smiling really big, showing his missing teeth. “I can draw pictures of you in it and then mail them to you when you're on the moon!” 

Bucky is so excited that he gives Steve a big hug. “That's the best idea ever, Steve! We’re gonna be the bestest grown ups ever!”

The next day at school, Steve and Bucky tell Sam their idea. 

Sam makes a sad face when he hears about it. That makes Bucky sad. Sam already got his big boy front teeth and there's a space between them. Bucky thinks it looks even cooler than Steve's missing teeth. Plus, Sam can shoot water between it. It's really funny. Bucky just wants Sam to smile so that he can see his cool front teeth so he asks, “Why do you look sad?” 

“That sounds fun. I wanna come too.” 

“You're gonna marry Natasha. You get to live with her and kiss her on the mouth.”

Sam's eyes get big. “On the mouth?!” 

“Yup!” Bucky tells him. 

Sam thinks about it, his brow furrowing up. “Do I have to kiss her if she has boogers in her nose?”

“Gross!” Steve says, he's laughing really hard. “Do you want to?” 

“No!”

“Maybe you could kiss her on the forehead instead,” Bucky offers. “You can come over our house every day if you want, just don't bring Natasha when she has too many germs. Steve can't get sick.”

Steve kicks Bucky under the lunch table. “I can get sick!”

“Why do you wanna get sick? My mommy told me you shouldn't get sick ‘cuz your heart doesn't work right.”

“And your lungs. Then you gotta go to the nurse,” Sam says around a mouthful of cheeseburger. Sam always remembers what to do if Steve starts breathing funny. Bucky sometimes forgets since it makes him feel scared. That's part of why Sam's the coolest. He never gets scared. Bucky smiles at him. 

Steve looks grumpy now. “Well when I'm a grown up I'm not gonna get sick.”

Natasha comes up with her lunchbox and sits next to Sam. “Hi. What are you talking about?”

“Steve and Bucky can't get married so they're going to live together and Bucky's going to be an astronaut and Steve's going to draw pictures in their big fort. I can come over whenever I want to!” 

“Can I come too?” Natasha asks Sam. 

“Only when you're not sick.” Natasha makes a face at that. “Don't worry,” Sam tells her, “I’ll take good care of you and we can watch movies at our house, but I'll only kiss you on the forehead if you have germs.”

“Why are we living together?”

“Because we’re getting married!” Then a horrified look crosses Sam's face. “You do want to marry me, right?” 

Natasha smiles, “Yes!”

Sam smiles too. “Oh good. I think it sounds awesome as long as Steve doesn't get sick. He can't be around germs.”

“I just said I'm not going to get sick when I'm big!” 

“How?” Bucky asks. 

Natasha answers for him, “I'm going to be a scientist when I get big. I'll make a special potion for Steve to drink so that he's big and can't get sick. He’ll be strong like a superhero!” 

Bucky gapes. “I want some too!” 

“There's only enough for Steve, sorry.”

Bucky makes a face at her and she sticks her tongue out at him before she starts to take her lunch out of her lunchbox and eat. She's not being very fair, but he would like it a lot if Steve didn't get sick anymore. He's always missing school. Bucky thinks he doesn't need it at all considering he's the second smartest kid ever. Sam's the smartest. 

He looks at Steve who's smiling happily. “You hear that Bucky? I'll never get sick again.”

When they're twelve, Bucky thinks back to that memory. 

When they're twelve, Bucky's mom wakes him up with a plate of pancakes and bacon on Saturday morning. The first thing he thinks is how weird it is that she's home from work on a Saturday, since that's her day to run the restaurant that Bucky's parents own. The second thing that Bucky thinks is _why does she look so sad?_

“Is he gonna get better?” Bucky asks after his mom tells him that Steve's really sick. He's so sick that he's in the hospital. His mom said that Steve has pneumonia. A few days ago Steve had been coughing and using his inhaler a lot at school but he seemed okay. When Bucky told his mom that, she just frowned and reminded Bucky that Steve's lungs have never worked how they should. His heart doesn't work right either, and suddenly Bucky's terrified. 

“Sweetie,” his mom says. The bottom of Bucky's stomach drops out. “Ms. Rogers called me and told me that they're not sure yet. He has some really amazing doctors working on him, though. They're doing all they can.”

Bucky's eyes start to prickle. “But- he's-” Bucky breaks off, looking for the right words to say. He wants to say that Steve's just a kid, that he's too young to be this sick. He wants to say that he's scared for Steve, his favorite person in the universe. But what comes out is, “He just had to make it until Natasha got old enough to be a scientist!” He's crying now, really crying. 

Bucky's mom pulls him into a hug and he folds into it. He rests his head on her shoulder. She pets at his hair gently and asks, “What, sweetie? I don't know what that means.”

“N-Natasha was gonna be a scientist and make Steve a-a potion that he could drink so h _e_ become a superhero and never get sick again. Then-n we were gonna get a house and build a f-fort.” Bucky's old enough now to know that Natasha probably couldn't create a potion like that if she tried, but for some reason it's the thing he's most sad about- that Steve might not get old enough to become a superhero. 

Bucky's mom holds him and Bucky keeps crying. He's so mad, he realizes. He's mad that Steve's sick and he's mad that his mom woke him up with pancakes and he's mad that God let this happen to the best guy he knows. Bucky feels like God is taking his shoulders and face and shaking it.

_He takes and He takes and He takes._

A few hours later Bucky's mom comes in and tells him that Steve's awake and asking for him. They get in the car and pick up Sam on the way to the hospital. Bucky's mom gets out and talks to Sam's mom, while Sam and Bucky are left sitting pressed up tightly together in the back seat watching. Bucky has plenty of room to scoot over but he doesn't care. Sam's steady and warm next to him. 

“Hey look,” Sam whispers, nudging Bucky in the side. “Nat drew Steve a picture.” He takes out a folded piece of paper from his pocket to show Bucky. When he opens it, Bucky sees a stick figure drawing of someone that could be Steve (considering he has glasses) holding a red, white and blue shield with a star in the middle. The stick figure is making a muscle with the arm not holding the shield. At the top of the page, Natasha’s written ‘Captain America’ in red letters. Bucky smiles. 

“He's gonna love it.”

Sam agrees, saying, “He is. He's gonna think the drawing is really bad and make his own though.”

“I hope so.” Bucky sees his mom give Sam's mom a tight hug before she starts to walk back to the car. 

Sam gives Bucky a little smile. “He will.” 

When they get there, Steve's as pale as a ghost. He's fallen asleep again in the time it took them to arrive. Steve's mom greets them and tells them they can go in if they're quiet. Sam and Bucky promise and cross their hearts and walk on their tip toes before sitting in the chairs arranged next to Steve's bed. 

“He looks so...” Sam whispers, not knowing what to say. 

“Sick,” Bucky finishes for him. His eyes are stinging again. He doesn't want to cry in front of Sam. His fearless friend Sam who's never been afraid of a thing since Bucky met him in kindergarten. But then Bucky looks over to him and for the first time, Sam looks absolutely terrified. 

Bucky starts to cry again then, wiping at his eyes to try and keep some of his composure. Sam hugs him and Bucky knows without looking that Sam's crying a little too. 

After a few minutes Bucky hears, “Shh.”

At first he thinks it's Steve's mom before he realizes that it's _Steve_. Steve's woken up and is shushing them both. Sam and Bucky let go of each other to look at him. He says, “You guys are so dramatic.” His eyes are so blue, so shining blue. Bucky's never noticed before. They're pretty and blue and crinkling at the sides because Steve is trying to smile. “I'm perfectly fine,” he assures them, lying through his teeth.

As gently as he can manage Bucky gets up and sits on the edge of Steve's bed. He looks at Steve’s colorless face and wipes at his nose. Then he says, “you better be.” 

“Yeah,” Sam manages, “because if not we’re gonna beat you up just like we beat up Jimmy Kelly for you two weeks ago.”

Steve gives a weak huff of a laugh. “I had him on the ropes.”

Bucky leans down and wraps his arms around Steve the best he can. “I know you did.”

Xxx

That's the first time Bucky imagines his life without Steve. He decides then, that it's something he never wants to go through. He decides then, that's he's going to hold onto Steve Rogers and never let him go. He's going to protect him and do whatever it takes. He knows even then, that he’ll never love anyone like he loves Steve. He's never going to lose Steve, if it is up to him.

When he finally does lose Steve, it isn't. 

Xxx

When he's fourteen, Bucky starts to get butterflies every time Steve gets close to him. 

When he's fifteen he realizes what it is. He _likes_ Steve. He does two things: pray about it and tell Sam. 

“Okay,” Sam tells him, easy as anything. 

Bucky waits for more but when nothing comes he says, “But God-”

“Preacher’s son,” Sam reminds him. “Bucky, have you prayed?”

“Only a billion times.”

“Then you're okay.” Sam shrugs and says, “If it's not meant to be, then it’ll go away.”

Bucky keeps praying, and praying and praying and praying. 

It never goes away. 

A few months later Bucky's parents go out of town. They arrange for him to stay with Steve as usual. Bucky's a little nervous at first but manages to get swept up in Steve. They go to the park with Sam and head home to go to bed when it gets too late. That's when Bucky's nerves really kick in. Steve notices pretty quickly. 

Steve flops over to face him, “Why are you so quiet?” With his glasses on, his eyes look even bigger than normal. They're so blue, a deeper blue than his. Steve's eyes are blue like the ocean, while Bucky's are blue and gray like ice, cold. 

Bucky wonders if he should really tell Steve why, if he should tell Steve that the only reason he's here is because his mom and dad wouldn't let him stay home alone. If he should tell Steve what he's been thinking about, praying about, crying about. 

_Lord, touch me with lightning,_ Bucky thinks. Steve deserves to know who Bucky really is. 

“I want to kiss you,” he whispers, looking straight into Steve's eyes. “I really want to kiss you. It won't go away. I even prayed about it.” 

Steve doesn't answer right away, just furrows his eyebrows and keeps looking at Bucky. Bucky feels his heart beating out of his chest, it almost hurts. “You don't have to,” Bucky assures him. “I know it's wrong. I just- I just wanted you to know. I needed to confess to you too, I guess.” 

Steve's always been so sure what about God where Bucky's struggled. There have always been things about their religion that bothered Bucky; the fact that babies are born sinners, the fact that all his friends from school that don't go to church are going to hell, the fact that he can't want to kiss his best friend just because he's not a girl. But Steve's always just known what was right. Bucky figures whatever Steve has to say is just as good as any minister Bucky could get advice from. 

It's a full minute later when Steve answers. “Well,” he starts slowly, the word lingering on his tongue. He scoots closer to Bucky on the bed. When he looks back up at Bucky, his eyes are sad. “The way I see it, God still loves you. He still loves me too.” Steve's voice is so soft and low. He brings a hand up to brush Bucky's scruffy bangs out of his face. “Cuz I think about kissing you all the time. I think about kissing some girls too.” Then he smiles, “and Sam.” 

It makes Bucky smile too, because right behind Steve on the list of people he would kiss is Sam, but also because Steve's fingers are still running through his hair and _he wants to kiss Bucky too_. 

“Sam looks like he'd be good to kiss.” 

“Nat’s lucky,” Steve says, and that's when he kisses Bucky for the first time. 

As far as first kisses go, it's good. It starts off slow, just a press of their lips together and then Steve's leaning back to look into Bucky's eyes to make sure they're still okay and kissing him again. He opens up his mouth this time in a way that makes Bucky open his too. His tongue is soft and tastes like toothpaste. His hand slides to the back of Bucky's neck and that makes Bucky bring his hand up to rest on Steve's shoulder. It's a sweet kiss really and when it's over, Bucky thinks, _raise your right hand. Tell me you want me in your life_. And even though Steve doesn't, he grins and tucks his head in the crook of Bucky's shoulder. 

Bucky starts giggling, half with happiness and half nervous jitters escaping him. Steve starts giggling too, and he moves his entire body against Bucky's to snuggle. Bucky wraps his left arm around Steve and tries his best to ignore the way his right arm is going to fall asleep pinned under Steve. 

“Goodnight Buck.” 

Bucky breathes in the scent of Steve's shampoo. He's still smiling when he exhales, and wins a battle against his nerves- pressing a soft kiss to Steve's head. “Night.” 

** Spring- now **

Natasha texts Bucky about his friend request to Steve before he even has a chance to open the app again. 

Nat: Steve Rogers is now friends with James Barnes 

Nat: do I need to bring over the vodka from our trip to Russia? 

Bucky rolls his eyes and ignores the way his stomach flips at the news that Steve actually accepted his friend request. 

Me: I can't believe you got Sam to go to Russia. 

Nat: He really likes fur. It wasn't as hard as you'd think. 

Nat: you're not crying into your Cheerios over there, right?

Me: not yet, but the morning’s still young. 

Me: if I do shed any tears today it will be because I'm sending my actual manuscript off for editing, not because of Steve 

Nat: big things happening in the Barnes household. Come over for dinner tomorrow. Bring me a pizza. 

Me: deal

When Bucky gets to Natasha’s house, he really thinks that he's got the vibe of ‘no, I haven't been checking my phone every ten seconds to see if Steve messaged me or not’ down pact. 

Natasha seems to disagree. “Hand me your phone,” she tells him as soon as he walks through the front door. Bucky pouts, but does.

They do break out the Russian vodka, and they don't say a word about Steve Rogers the entire time. Natasha asks Bucky if he’d help her write her vows (little does she know Sam asked him a few days prior. He can't wait to make them secretly compliment each other linguistically). Bucky complains that his editor wants to change everything about his manuscript. Then he complains about the articles he's editing himself for the news website he sometimes works for. Natasha tells him about her work and how her latest client is being sued for talking too loudly (“I don't even care if I lose. I can not wait to go to trial”.) Bucky paints the fingernails on her left hand for her. Natasha puts a dumb braid in the front of his hair. By the time Bucky heads out to go back home he feels a bit lighter. 

Natasha hands him back his phone. “No new messages,” she tells him, offering him a tiny smile and a kiss on the cheek. 

“At least I won't be compelled to message him drunk.” 

He does look at Steve's pictures again when he's home later on. About a year back there's some with Steve and a really beautiful brunette woman, but his current relationship status is single. He looks happy in every picture he's tagged in. He looks like he up and decided to figure his shit out and then _did it_. He did what Bucky's always wanted to do- been trying to do since he was 8 years old. 

It's just a shame he had to up and leave Bucky to get it done.

That Saturday, Sam invites him out for drinks. 

Sam slides him a beer. “Buying me drinks twice in one week? What is this? Am I dying?” 

Sam rolls his eyes, laughing. “Man, shut the hell up. Maybe I just want to be nice.” 

Bucky stares at Sam with an eyebrow raised. 

“Fine. I just don't feel like getting drunk by myself. Plus, you need to talk about Steve and I need to talk about Natasha. That's what friends do, right? Talk?”

Bucky takes a pull of his beer and says, “I love how you phrased that like a question. You're the one going to get his master’s degree in psychology. Shouldn't you know?” 

“I don't know why I put up with you.”

“I don't either.” Bucky notices that around Sam's eyes are shadows that he's rarely seen there- maybe once before. “Tell me what's going on with you and Nat.”

Sam sighs and looks down at his hands. He wrings them together. When his mouth opens, so do the floodgates. “What if we're making a mistake? She's the only girl I've dated. I asked her out in eighth grade. She's the only girl I've kissed, the only girl I've slept with. She's the only person I know how to be with. I mean, it makes logical sense to get married but what if we’re making a mistake? What if we should date around first? We’re young, our engagement is short.” Sam’s eyebrows furrow up and he shakes his head. “What if I'm not enough. What if I'm not good enough for her?” 

Bucky's heart breaks then, looking at his best friend, his remarkable best friend doubting himself so much. He remembers when he's seen Sam looking as tired and worn down as he does now. It's been twice, once after his dad died and then after his mom died. 

“First of all, you need to know that your mom would be so fucking proud of you.” He meets Sam's eyes when he says it, making sure that Sam knows. 

Bucky watches as Sam shrinks in his seat. Suddenly he's the nine year old kid Bucky and Steve met on the playground at school. Suddenly, he's just a little boy who misses his mama. “You think so?” He asks. 

Bucky nods. He wishes they were sitting next to each other so that he could bump Sam's shoulder with his. He settles for knocking his knuckles into Sam's forearm across the table. “I know so. She'd be so proud that not only were you a good enough man to keep the same woman for ten years, but you were a good enough man to want to marry her in a time when that's not the thing to do anymore. I remember how much she loved Natasha. She'd be so proud of the man you are today, Sam. I promise you.” 

Sam meets Bucky's eyes across the table, his own are shiny. He blinks a few times and then slaps Bucky's arm. It's a thank you, so Bucky makes a big show of being injured. 

Sam laughs, “God, my mom fucking hated you. I kept trying to tell her that between you and Steve that you were the good one but she never believed me.”

“No one did!” Bucky says, throwing his hands up dramatically. “I wanted to stay home and write stories about robots but no, somebody had to want to beat up someone twice their size every Friday night.” 

Sam’s still laughing, “Do you know that he boxes now? Kickboxes too maybe, I think. I've seen him fight a couple times. He's good.” 

Bucky takes another sip of his drink before saying, “Is he any taller? Didn't look it.” 

“Maybe about two inches.” Sam tells him, giving Bucky a grin. “He's pretty built now, managed to pack on some muscle. He sees a special nutritionist and everything. Takes good care of himself.” 

“That's good.” 

“Look, Bucky. You know that you guys don't have to become best friends again for my wedding, right? There's enough of you groomsmen that you two could probably ignore each other the entire time. You're my best man so you're going to be pretty busy fixing my veil anyway.” 

“It's not for you.” Bucky starts. When Sam gives him a look he says, “fine. It's not _just_ for you. Steve was my best friend from eight to eighteen. I need to stop letting my high school boyfriend make me miserable. It's been seven years.” 

Sam gives him a pitying look. “You can't help who you love.”

“Sam I'm pathetic, don't even lie.” 

“I mean, I can't argue with the truth. You're a pretty pathetic little shit, not to mention you're not that good looking or funny-” Sam cuts himself off laughing. 

“Oh my goodness.” Bucky's laughing too. Fake insults are how he and Sam express their affection. 

“So I take it your date a few weeks ago didn't go well?” 

Bucky polishes off his beer and sighs. He says, “If I wanted to get a cat, would you come with me?” 

“Depends, are we talking a kitten?”

“Absolutely.” 

“Good. We can name him after ‘Alex from Minneapolis that just doesn't understand why I don't get a real job.’” 

“Yikes. Does he not know how much money you actually make or-?”

“I don't make-”

“Blah blah, stocks, bonds, when your dad retired he left you some rich white people stuff, I don't care. By the way, you're paying for the dinner in three weeks.” 

Bucky frowns, “Why are we having dinner in three weeks?” 

Sam smiles, almost smirks really. Then he gives Bucky a half hearted shrug. “Steve's coming to town.” 

** Summer-now **

It takes a week for Natasha to call him about their engagement party. “So, Bucky,” she starts. 

“Gross. You only call me that when you want something.” 

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

“I do- fine. What are your giant apartment and rooftop deck doing in two weeks?” 

Bucky chuckles at the phrasing of it. “Being nice and empty so I can attend your engagement party.” 

“Great! So they won't mind if we hold the party there instead?” 

Bucky smiles and looks out at his sparkling clean place from where he's seated on his couch. He keeps it in decent shape regularly, but if he's being honest he's been freeing up space ever since Sam mentioned the party to him last week. Every function in their friend group has been held at Bucky's apartment since he bought it a few years back. It's the nicest out of everyone’s. Bucky's glad to share his space. “Nope,” he answers. “They'd be happy to host your guests as long as you promise to decorate it since their owner doesn't have the proper eye for color.” 

The following two weeks pass for Bucky in a blur of streamers, ordering food from his family’s restaurant and moving furniture. He'd be worrying about seeing Steve again if he had the time. 

A few hours before the party, he finds the time.

Bucky seems to have forgotten how to tie a tie when Natasha walks into his bedroom. 

“Everything’s all set up.” She flops onto his bed, sundress billowing with her movement. “You just remembered he's coming, didn't you?”

“No,” Bucky lies. 

She lies there for a second before she groans and hoists herself back onto her feet. “Let me do it.” 

Bucky sighs and does, flopping his hands down to his side. 

“James, for as long as I can remember you've been right by Steve's side.” She straightens his tie around his neck, voice quiet when she speaks. “I didn't get it at first, why you two were attached at the hip. But I do now.”

Bucky bites at his lip. “It's been so long.”

“It has. Too long, really. And that's both of your faults, but it's also unimportant. All you have to do tonight is make nice and be happy for me and Sam.”

“I am,” he tells her. She looks beautiful. He tells her that too. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” She finishes tying his tie, smiling. “But thank you anyway. We both love you.”

“I love you guys too.”

“You're going to be fine, James. You're going to feel better after seeing him. Maybe you'll get some closure.”

Bucky nods and Natasha heads for his bedroom door. He stops her. “Hey Nat? You're going to be fine too. Both of you.”

She smiles again, this time letting all the fear she has inside her show on her face. Bucky wonders if she's just as scared as Sam is. “Thank you.” 

The party starts and what feels like Bucky's entire high school rolls in. The first to arrive include Bucky and Sam's other best friends. He gives big hugs to Luke, Clint and Gabe in turn. Bucky's honest to goodness fizzling with nerves by the time Steve walks in. 

He looks good, from what Bucky can see. Steve's instantly wrapped up in a hug from Sam and laughing with his head thrown back. He looks beautiful, Bucky decides. His world drops out from beneath him, composed of a constant inner monologue of: Steve, Steve, it's really Steve. 

He doesn't think to move or hide from where he's standing in the center of the room talking to Gabe. He doesn't think at all. 

Then Steve's in front of him, smiling sweetly at him. It might have been a minute, it might have been an hour. Bucky doesn't know a thing besides the fact that Steve's _there_ standing next to him, looking bright and beautiful and like everything good that Bucky's been missing for so long. 

“Hi,” Bucky manages. Is he breathing, even? 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve tells him and just like that Bucky's a sixteen year old kid in Brooklyn, hearing his name said in Steve's voice. It's everything. 

And Steve's arms are around him, then, Bucky's brain reminds him to hug Steve back and then his arms are around Steve and it's been so long yet somehow Steve manages to smell the same. He uses the same shampoo as he did years ago and when he pulls back and looks at Bucky it's the only thought in his head so he says it. 

“I do,” Steve says, smiling. He touches Bucky's face and Bucky still loves him so much that it hurts- it aches. 

Then Steve's being stolen away from him by Gabe to say hello. Then Bucky realizes that he really needs a fucking drink. 

He watches the minutes pass and Steve float from person to person, saying hello like no time has passed at all. After a while, he heads up to his roof because he needs the chill in the spring air just as much as he needs to not see Steve Rogers in all of his perfect smiling glory. 

It's just a bit much, is all. 

Of course, Steve finds him. 

“Hey Bucky,” Steve says from behind him. Bucky’s sitting in one of the lawn chairs that he put up on his rooftop deck when he first moved in. It’s seen a lot of bad weather, this chair. It’s seen a lot of Bucky feeling lonely and wrong- coming outside to sit and get some fresh air. 

Steve sits in the chair opposite him and sighs a little as he eases into it. His hair’s shorter than in his facebook picture, greatly resembling the cut that he used to sport back when. 

“Hey,” Bucky replies, wishing that it was _back when_. It doesn’t feel right that he and Steve have this kind of barrier between them. He misses the easiness of having someone know your every in and out. Bucky’s never missed Steve as much as he does right now, with Steve finally next to him after so many years. “I miss you,” he tells Steve before he can stop himself. 

Steve angles his body towards Bucky’s, getting closer. He looks at the beer bottle in his hands and then back up to Bucky's face, “I missed you too. It's been… too long.” 

Bucky huffs, “Yeah.”

“I'm sorry,” Steve blurts out all at once. Other people are starting to make the trek up to the rooftop, surrounding them. “I shouldn't have-” 

“You shouldn't,” Bucky tells him. “But it's okay.” Maybe it isn't but it feels okay for right now. Steve's here and everything feels better inside Bucky than it has in years.

They play catch up. Steve tells Bucky about his job as a graphic designer in Chicago. Bucky tells Steve about how his family is doing, about his job as a writer here and how he's still supervising his family’s restaurant part-time on top of it. Steve looks at Bucky like he's something beautiful and Bucky's sure that he's looking at Steve the same way, but he lets himself believe it. 

“Doesn't this remind you of our graduation party?” Steve asks. He takes a sip of his beer and looks to Bucky. His face has more freckles than it used to, a few more lines from the sun and smiling. It makes Bucky’s nerves settle to see Steve's face just starting to age in ways that means he's done a lot more smiling than frowning in the past few years. 

“What?”

“The decorations, the rooftop,” Steve says. “I think Natasha only knows how to decorate one way. 

Bucky looks around at his rooftop deck and Steve's right. He's suddenly rocketed back to when Natasha threw them all a big graduation party. Steve and Bucky had shown up hand in hand, careless, free and young. Bucky remembers being so proud to show Steve off. He had been so proud to show their love off. He looks at Steve and his heart thunders along in his chest. “Yeah,” he manages. Steve looks breathtakingly gorgeous at that moment. Bucky's helpless to do anything but look at him and want. 

Someone turns on music then. The first song is fast and popular. Bucky can't hear it over the sound of Steve's voice soothing his soul and rambling on about how his latest project at work is based on something the two of them did as kids. Steve never forgot about him. Steve's sitting up further and further in his chair to be closer to him. 

Steve's here. He's really here. 

“Dance with me,” Steve says suddenly. The song’s changed and Bucky remembers it. 

** Summer-then **

“Let’s dance,” Bucky says, pulling at Steve's hands when the song turns slow. 

“But Bucky- I- there's so many- you might-” 

“I don't care,” Bucky assures him. “I want to dance with my boyfriend.” 

Steve's eyes are brilliant and sharp and they crinkle at the sides when he smiles at Bucky. _“_ Okay,” he answers, quieter than Bucky expected. Steve's nervous, and for once it's Bucky who's the sure one.

Steve grabs his hand as soon as he agrees and leads them to the dance floor. He wraps his hands around Bucky's neck and smiles, cheeks pink. 

**Now**

“Okay,” Bucky answers softly. He stands and trails behind Steve to the makeshift dance floor. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky's neck and blushes a little. Bucky smiles and says, “I remember this song.”

“Yeah,” Steve answers. “Me too.” 

He finds their bodies drifting closer than he expected them to. Sense memory. They know each other in a way that ingrains itself into their muscles, their bones. Their bodies know how to be close. Steve rests his forehead on the bottom of Bucky's jaw. Bucky feels Steve's hot breath coming out in slow sighs against his neck. He pulls Steve in a little closer with the hand he has resting on Steve's back and feels Steve huff a little laugh. Nothing exists in the entire world but this- and all Bucky can think of is how the song’s about to end. He can't even enjoy the way Steve's hand comes up to the back of his neck because it's all going to stop. 

“Stop thinking,” Steve mumbles, lifting his head up to look into Bucky's eyes. 

Bucky smiles, just a little since Steve knows him so well he can't help it,“I can't.”

“You haven't changed a bit, Barnes.” Steve's face is so close to his, unconscious, just the gravitational pull that's existed between them since the first day they met dragging them together. 

“Not when it comes to you.” 

It's Steve's turn to smile a little, his eyes flicking back and forth between Bucky's eyes and mouth. He wants to kiss Bucky, needs to know if that's okay still. If Bucky would care about all the lines they would cross. 

** Then **

Bucky keeps Steve close as they sway. Steve's eyes keep moving between Bucky's eyes and mouth. He wants to kiss Bucky, wants to know if that's okay. 

[](http://s1244.photobucket.com/user/Mbrown265/media/IMG_2197_zpstyzvvw7u.jpg.html)

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers and then he leans down.

** Now **

“Can-?” Steve asks, because he's unsure and the whole entire party could be staring at them but he can't tell. He's so obviously trapped in this time warp with Bucky. Past and present smashing together and the universe and God and everything else just telling them both to stay close and stay _still_. For once just say still. 

Bucky isn't sure either but he whispers, “Yeah,” and then leans down. 

** Then **

And Bucky kisses Steve right there on a rooftop in Brooklyn. Kisses him with everything he's got right there in front of their friends, the stars and God Himself. They can all see. Bucky doesn't care. 

** Now **

And Bucky kisses Steve right there on a rooftop in Manhattan. He kisses him slow and tries to ignore the way Steve melts into it. He kisses him right in front of everyone they know. He kisses Steve in front of the universe and God and pushes down the part of himself that knows that this is a bad idea, the part of himself that knows he's not going to be able to stop and that Steve's still going to leave again. Steve kisses him back slow and desperate and apologetic and it makes Bucky want to sweep him up into his arms and never let him go. It makes Bucky want to push him away and run. It makes Bucky want to tear himself in half and do both at the same time. 

The song ends and Bucky pulls away.

** Then **

The song ends and Bucky pulls away. Steve's eyes are bright and smiling. “Bucky,” he murmurs, leaning back in to kiss Bucky's lips again. “Come over. Sleep over tonight.” 

Bucky knows immediately how loaded of a statement it is. He strokes Steve's hair out of his eyes with his fingertips and says, “Yeah. Yeah I will.”

** Now **

Steve's eyes are bright for a moment then it's like the realization of what he's just done comes crashing down around him. His face is apologetic, regretful. “Bucky,” he murmurs. He reaches up and rubs his thumbs over Bucky's cheekbones so softly. “I'm sorry.” He keeps eye contact with Bucky for what feels like an eternity before he walks away. 

The party passes and Bucky lets himself stop feeling. Steve came back and kissed him and walked away. Steve came back and kissed him and was sorry. Bucky's hand stays steady on the neck of a beer as he congratulates Sam and Natasha on their engagement. Bucky's hand stays steady on the neck of a beer as the guests leave, as Sam pulls him into a hug and Natasha gives him a kiss, as Bucky's left alone to clean up the mess that everyone's left. Bucky sets his beer down when a few hours later his doorbell rings. 

It's Steve. 

“Why are you here?” He questions. He wants to go to bed, wants to forget that Steve Rogers even exists even though he knows that's not possible for him anymore. 

“I don't know,” Steve admits. He pushes his glasses up into his hair. “I don't know.” 

“Do you need somewhere to sleep?” Bucky attempts. He's grasping for straws since there's no way Steve actually wants to be here with him, not after what happened earlier. 

“No. I- well yeah but, no. That's not why I'm here.” 

“Okay…”

“You ever wondered about fate?” Steve asks. He blurts the question out all in a breath. 

“Sure,” Bucky answers with a shrug.

“No, but like, with you and I?” Steve pushes his way past Bucky to head into Bucky's torn up apartment. Bucky shuts his front door behind Steve and leans up against it as Steve keeps talking. “I've spent years trying to move on from you, Buck. I have seen actual therapists who have told me that I connect you to some great trauma I'm repressing or my mother’s death or something because there's no way I could logically not be over my high school boyfriend. But that's not it.” Steve takes a step closer to Bucky, then another. “I think it's fate.”

“Are you drunk?” 

“Not really,” Steve tells him. His eyes are big and pleading like this has really been something he's been holding in for years. “I can't help it. I can't stop wanting to be with you Bucky. Why? Why can't I just move on?” 

“I-I don't know.” Bucky brings his hands up to Steve's waist without thinking. Their gravitational pull, fate, the universe creating them to orbit around each other until they collide and make a giant flaming star, God writing their names down in his book next to each other. Whatever. 

“I think that we were supposed to be together. I think that I was supposed to end up with you, Buck, and that I fucked it all up when I moved to Chicago.” 

“Steve, don’t-”

“Then my mom died and do you know what I see every time I come to this city? Doesn’t matter the borough, I see her. I see her everywhere, Bucky. It hurts so bad.” Bucky rubs up and down Steve’s arms with his hands. He thinks Steve has to be a little drunk at least. Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever heard Steve talk like this. Maybe he’s just been holding it in for half a decade and it’s all coming out at once. “When I see you, even if it’s just on Sam’s facebook, I think of New York and when I think of New York I think of her and she was just too young Bucky. I had to watch her die so slowly. It took so long for her to go. She held my hand and she told me to marry you and then she died.” 

“She told you to marry me?” Bucky asks quietly. Steve’s never told him that before. 

“Yeah,” Steve whispers. “She told me to marry you and then she took her last breath. Just like that.”

A horrible thought crosses Bucky’s mind, “Oh Steve, you don’t think that He-”

“No. He wouldn’t do that to a woman like my mother. We both know that she’s up there in her mansion with Him right now.”

Bucky nods, Steve’s mother’s faith was unwavering, a beautiful tangible thing. “Then why don’t you just…” Bucky searches for the right words, “give in to fate?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve answers honestly. His voice cracks with the words. He stands on his tip toes and moves his face closer to Bucky’s. “You scare me.” 

“Why?” Bucky lowers his head down and brushes his nose against Steve’s. His heart thundering in his chest. His brain’s swimming. He’s just trying to make sense of everything Steve’s telling him after years of not saying a word. 

“You could leave me too,” Steve manages, finally. 

“I won’t.”

“You could.” 

“I could,” Bucky whispers back, they’re still nose to nose, bodies pressed impossibly close. “But I’d do everything in my power not to.” 

Steve clicks his teeth and huffs a little, “What if I told you I was still in love with this, with us?”

“I’d tell you that I was too.” And Bucky saying that is all Steve must be able to stand because he smashes their mouths together, hard and breathless, pleading. 

“What if we don’t work out?” Steve asks, panting. 

“When did you get so unsure?” Bucky’s never known Steve to be unsure about a single thing in his life. He’s always acted a sureness that Bucky craved. It's always been his job to overthink everything. It's been Steve's job to run headfirst into it and leave Bucky with no other choice.

“I’ve been sure about everything in my life except for you. All I've ever known is that I don't like it when you're not around. I haven't changed at all when it comes to you either.” Then Steve kisses him again. 

They kiss for ages, begging each other to slow down and speed up at the same time. Their bodies know each other so well. Bucky's reduced to nothing but wanting- sadness, maybe- _stay stay stay_ , desperation and wanting. 

He gets Steve into his bedroom. Steve pushes him down into his bed and climbs into his lap. “Steve,” Bucky breathes.

“Bucky,” Steve answers. 

Steve kisses up the line of Bucky’s neck. “After all these years, I still know you. I still know you so well.” He bites at the corner of Bucky’s jaw and Bucky shudders everywhere. His hands are greedy on Steve’s body. It’s more muscular now than it ever has been. 

“Remember our first time?” Bucky asks. “After the party?”

“Yeah.” Steve's still kissing at his jaw. 

“You wanna-?”

Steve leans back far enough to strip off his shirt. Bucky's hands instantly gravitate to his chest, feeling the skin there. He nudges at Steve's face until Steve kisses him. Steve answers, “Yeah.” 

Their bodies remember each other in this way too. The feel of skin against skin; Bucky remembers it. Bucky remembers the sweet little love sounds Steve would make when Bucky would kiss on that spot behind his ear. Bucky kisses there again just to hear it. Bucky lays Steve out onto the bed. They take off their clothes and Bucky gets a little breathless at the very sight of Steve naked, legs spread and a hand around himself. 

“You always look at me like I'm something precious.”

Bucky shucks his pants and underwear to the floor, watches Steve go a little cross eyed seeing Bucky standing there, looking like a man. “That's because you are,” Bucky says. He climbs onto the bed and Steve spreads his legs even further to accommodate him. Bucky crawls up towards him and when his skin hits Steve's everything's good. This feels good, this feels like it's what Bucky's been supposed to have been doing for all this time. There's no awkwardness, there's just familiarity. 

“I shouldn't stay here,” Steve says, after. His hair’s sticking to his forehead a little. He squints at Bucky and asks, “Pass me my glasses?”

Bucky does, saying, “I know, but you could.”

When Bucky lies back down Steve settles himself so that he's lying mostly on top of Bucky. Bucky wraps his arms around Steve and can't help the sigh that comes out. 

“Remember what I said our first time?” 

“You said that you wanted it to be me. You always wanted it to be me.” 

“I still do,” Steve admits quietly. “I've just been gone too long, done too much.”

Bucky thinks about that for a long minute. He knows that if any other person did what Steve did to him, he'd drop them. He'd never speak to them and eventually be okay with it. But this is Steve, this is fate so he says, “There will never be a time when I don't let you back in.”

It's the wrong thing to say because Steve's getting up and getting dressed. Bucky lets him, lying flat on his back still naked in his bed. 

Steve comes to him and kisses him softly, letting it linger. When he breaks it off he tells Bucky, “You deserve better than this.” 

Bucky smiles and shakes his head. “I don't want anything else.” 

Steve makes a face like his heart just shattered. The look stays put as he moves to Bucky's bedroom door. He opens it and turns to Bucky one last time. “I'll see you.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replies. Then Steve's gone. 

He closes his eyes and listens to the busy sounds of Manhattan in the summer. He never drifts off to sleep. 

** Fall- then **

Steve's mom goes into the hospital the first day of the fall semester. Bucky's at NYU and Steve's all the way in Chicago, something that has twisted Bucky's insides up and had Steve promising that the distance was nothing, that he'd be back, that he'd love Bucky for ever and ever regardless of where he was living. 

Bucky believed him then. 

He gets the call first since Steve's so far away. “Bucky, my mom, my- she's- at work- King’s County- please baby you gotta-”

He goes. 

The doctors tell him that Sarah collapsed at work. The doctors tell him that they're doing everything they can. The doctors tell him that she's in renal failure. Sarah Rogers was too busy taking care of everyone else to take care of herself. The doctors tell Bucky that she might never wake up. They tell that to Steve when he arrives too. 

Bucky holds Steve's hand and the two of them pray like they've never prayed before. Sam and Natasha come too, and it's just the four of them with their hands intertwined. Steve prays until he can't so Sam takes over. Bucky knows that Sam hasn't prayed since he lost his dad but he's sure praying now. 

_Help us, help her, heal her, oh Lord._

When she passes, Bucky is asleep in the waiting room with his head pillowed on Natasha’s shoulder. Steve wakes him up by climbing into Bucky's lap, scrambling and desperate, crying. 

“She woke up to say goodbye,” Steve tells him. “She's gone, she's gone, my mommy-” Bucky holds Steve as close to him as he can manage. He must be hurting him. “Bucky that's my mom. She's gone, she's gone.”

Bucky holds Steve's hand as the two of them arrange the funeral. He holds Steve's hand at the church in front of God. Their God that took Sarah Rogers from them both too soon. He holds Steve's hand in front of his parents that say they'll never understand him but will pray for him. He holds Steve's hand when Steve wakes up in the middle of the night sobbing, asking why. 

When he wakes up the next morning Steve's not in his bed. There's a note on the kitchen counter. It reads:

_Had to go. Got a flight back to Chicago. I'm going to be okay. I love you so much. Call me tomorrow._

Sure, it strikes Bucky as odd but Steve's grieving and people in pain do things that don't always make sense. He folds the note up and sticks it into his back pocket. He's sure that Steve will explain when Bucky talks to him tomorrow. 

Tomorrow comes so Bucky dials Steve's number, anxiously waiting to hear Steve's voice. He doesn't answer. 

Bucky calls Steve the next day. Maybe he was just too tired to call back. He doesn't answer.

Bucky calls Steve the next day. Maybe he was just too emotional. He doesn't answer 

Bucky calls Steve the next day.

Bucky calls Steve the next day.

The next.

The next.

The next.

Eventually, Bucky stops trying. 

Steve never does answer. 

** Fall-now  **

“I swear, Natasha. You have all these bridesmaids and still come over my apartment to have a girls night.” Bucky's painting her toenails a rather pretty shade of pink. He decides that now is not the time to question his life choices.

She tosses a piece of popcorn at him. “Blah, blah, gay best friend trope.” 

“Oh shut up,” Bucky says, but he's laughing. 

“How was sex with Steve?”

“It was-” Bucky cuts himself off abruptly. Natasha has a way with words that's completely different than Bucky's. She's an attorney, a tricky fox, while Bucky's creative and thoughtful- a turtle if turtles could write boring online news articles. “It was nonexistent.” 

“Don't lie to me, James. I've known you since I was eight years old and fresh off the boat.”

“Your parents flew in a plane with you from Russia, Nat.”

“Can you just stop being a pain and tell me how having sex with your long lost love was?” 

“Nope,” Bucky says. He finishes painting Natasha’s toes and caps the bottle of pink polish carefully. “If there was any sex at all.”

“Steve came home with a giant bruise on his neck so either he got some from you or from someone else.”

Bucky sighs, “Fine! It was me. The sex was good. You happy?”

She smiles at him, lips curving upwards. “Just good?”

“It was great, Natasha. It was phenomenal. It felt like it had been days since we were last together, not years. Then he got all weird and I got all weird and he left. That's it.”

Natasha hums, taking in all the new information that Bucky's just given her. “Be careful.”

“Huh?”

“James,” she says. She puts her feet on the floor and scoots closer to Bucky. “You can't let him in like nothing happened.”

“Nat I-” 

She cuts him off with a finger over his lips and keeps talking. “He ran out on you without saying a damn word. Do not minimize that just because you're still in love with him. Do not let him get away with that.”

“But he-”

She shakes her head no. “Tell me right now that you're going to make him earn you back.”

“I don't even know if he wants me back.”

“I don't know either, James. I wish I did. I do know one thing though, and that's that you are remarkable.” She folds one of his hands into hers. “You never once made me feel like an outsider even though I really was one. You always made it a point to include me in everything, even if I was making dirty faces at you the entire time. You are kind-hearted and intelligent. You are funny and funny looking too.” 

“Hey,” Bucky exclaims. He smiles at her softly and gives her shoulder a bump with his own.

“You're someone special, James. I know that Steve knew that, still knows that, but you need to promise me that you'll make him earn that space in your heart back. Don't ever let him run away like a chicken again.” 

“Okay,” Bucky promises. He feels her words thrumming through him. He's worth it. He deserves that much. “I’d tell you to do the same with Sam but we all know he'd never hurt a hair on your head.”

Natasha smiles, “I really hit the jackpot when I met you guys.”

“Eh, we’ll see how much you like us after Sam's bachelor party this weekend.”

Natasha laughs, “I'm not worried one bit. Sam values his life too much to do anything stupid.” That makes Bucky laugh too. Natasha holds out her right hand and gives him a smile that's half-mischievous and half-pleading. She asks, “Will you paint my right hand? Please?”

Bucky feigns annoyance and picks up the pink polish again. “Your gay best friend trope is going to buy your fiancée a lap dance.”

Natasha raises a playful eyebrow at him. “Just kidding,” Bucky says. “I value my life too, you know.” 

“Don't make that face. He's not coming,” are the first words that come out of Sam's mouth when he climbs into Bucky's car. 

“Why?” Bucky asks. 

“Don't make that face either. I'm not mad.”

Bucky sighs. “I don't know how.” 

“He's coming to the important part and that's all that matters to me,” Sam tells him. “I'm more concerned about how the guy keeps adding to his guilt pile.”

“It's more like a mountain now.”

Sam barks out a laugh, “You got that right.”

“This isn't about my sad, unfinished teenage romance. This is about getting you as drunk as possible and then blowing your money at the slot machines,” Bucky tells Sam. 

“Barnes,” Sam says. “You got that right too.”

Bucky allows himself to get lost in night. He drinks too much and spends too much and laughs when Clint loses over a hundred dollars on a single bet by accident because he added too many zeros. It's fun. It's careless, young fun that Bucky allows himself to have. He cherishes it, and does his best to wish that Steve wasn't with them. 

The next morning, Bucky wraps his arms around the body in front of him just a little tighter. He’s warm and cozy and in his sleepy state, he doesn’t bother to think about who he’s lying with. 

“Man, I swear to god if you don’t stop spoonin’ me,” Sam growls.

“Oh boy,” Bucky groans, rolling over so that he’s on his back. “Sorry, Sam.” 

“There is a whole other bed!”

“I was really drunk.” 

“Two beds, Barnes.” 

“You could have gotten up too!” 

“Shut up! My head hurts!”

“Hello? Anyone- oh, hey guys.” And it’s Steve who’s walking through the door. He’s got a weekend bag in his hand along with a jacket draped over it. He’s squinting at them theatrically from where he’s standing in the doorway. He pushes his glasses down over his eyes from where they rest in his hair. “You know, I had a dream or two that went exactly like this when I was younger. There was less clothes and the smell of stale booze involved, but I’ll take it.” Steve kicks off his shoes and sets down his bag and jacket before moving to Sam’s side of the bed. “Scoot over. Make a man’s dreams come true.”

“This is supposed to be my special weekend, not yours,” Sam complains, but he shoves over a little closer to Bucky to make room for Steve anyway. 

Steve climbs into the bed and playfully snuggles into Sam's side. “Hey Buck.”

“Hey,” Bucky says, speechless in the way that only Steve can seem to make him. 

“Thought you weren't coming,” Sam says. 

“I wasn't going to, but I managed to finish up a project pretty early. Figured I'd use some of my vacation time and take off until the day after the wedding next week.”

“A whole week in New York?” Sam questions. 

“I have a lot of family to visit. I'll be busy.”

“You could always stay at my place,” Bucky offers. 

“Uh- thanks Bucky. That's real nice of you.” The way Steve says it makes Bucky know that he's not going to actually do it. 

“Look this was nice and all but I have a headache the size of Nebraska. If you two aren't going to be quiet enough to let me sleep-” Sam breaks off and waves his hand towards the door. 

“Okay,” Steve says, laughing. “Wanna grab breakfast with me, Bucky?” 

Bucky takes exactly six sips of his coffee before Steve decides it’s time to talk. “I can't leave Chicago to be with you again.”

Bucky blinks, “Okay.”

“Are you ever going to give up on me?”

“Nope,” Bucky answers easily. He doesn't need coffee to know. 

“God you're so-”

“What? Hard-headed and stubborn? That makes the both of us.”

Steve smiles a little and picks up his own coffee cup. “You got that right.” 

“You know you fucked me up,” Bucky tells him. Maybe it's the hangover or maybe it's the fact that Steve manages to still look golden and perfect after flying from Illinois but he's mad- so damn mad for the first time in a long time. “You never called me back. You didn't even have the decency to break up with me. 

“Bucky, I-” Steve looks like he's just been sucker-punched. 

“I know your mom just died, don't give me that. You had years to call me and you never fucking did.”

Steve hangs his head a little, “I got scared.”

“Of what?”

“That you'd hate me.”

“Steve, I kind of did for a long time but I never could actually hate you. You deserve it though, walking out on me like that.”

“I know,” Steve says. He looks Bucky right in the eyes and makes a grab for Bucky's hand. Bucky lets him. “I'm so sorry, Bucky.”

“Good,” Bucky says. Steve rubs his finger over Bucky's knuckle. “You owe me and you can start with paying for this breakfast.” 

Steve releases a breath and says, “Okay. I'll start with this.”

Bucky feels something loosen inside of him. 

The next time Bucky sees Steve is the night before the rehearsal dinner. Bucky's barely opened his front door before Steve's backed him up into a wall. He pushes his lips against Bucky's, hard. Bucky groans, opening his mouth so that Steve can lick inside it. Steve pins his hands up above his head and slots his thigh between Bucky's. It's fast and rough. It's pain, Bucky realizes. Steve's in pain and he doesn't know what to do with it besides turn it into something physical. When Steve's grip on his wrists relaxes, Bucky flips them. He pushes Steve up against the wall and cups his face with both his hands. Steve's eyes blink open and Bucky can see that they're red-rimmed. He presses a soft kiss to Steve's forehead and just that little bit of gentleness is all Steve needs to lose it. 

He breaks down and Bucky holds him close, petting his hair, kissing at his forehead and cheeks, wiping his eyes. 

“I saw her- the grave,” Steve manages.

“I know.”

“I miss her.”

“I know. I miss her too.” And Bucky saying that makes Steve clutch at him harder.

It takes a while before they've both calmed down. Bucky's lying flat on the couch with Steve completely on top of him. “That's the first time I've been there,” Steve admits quietly. Bucky's stroking up and down his back. 

“Really?” He figured that Steve would have been before now. 

“Yeah.”

Bucky eventually manages to convince himself that Steve didn't tell him that just because he wants Bucky to know that he's trying to make peace with New York. That he's trying to be okay with coming home because of how wonderful it feels to be around Bucky again. He's sure that's why Steve told him, but he's just scared is all. He holds Steve close and in the morning when they wake up with sore necks, they both know that something's changed. Neither of them acknowledge it. They're both still too afraid, both clinging too tightly to the ‘what ifs’. 

Sam's the fearless one, always has been and still is as he stands holding Natasha’s hand at the altar. Bucky remembers how scared he was, how scared they both were but here they are. They're both crying a little. Bucky's crying a little too. Natasha looks gorgeous. Her dress is mostly form-fitting with a little flare around her hips. Her hair is mostly covered by a veil but what's not is curleld into luscious red ringlets. Sam looks beautiful too. His suit fits him like a dream. Most importantly he's smiling. His smile is big and gap-toothed and happy. 

“In sickness and in health,” Natasha says.

“For as long as we both shall live,” Sam says and Bucky feels Steve's hand reach up and press against his back. 

“I do,” they both say. Bucky reaches back with his hand and squeezes Steve's, just for a moment. 

They both know, then. 

God wrote their names down together in His book. The universe pushed them together and apart and together again. 

They are each other’s fate, destiny. 

“I'm gonna love you until the end of the line,” Steve had told Bucky, laughing and kissing him. That was so many years ago now. 

Bucky had smiled and replied, “And I'm gonna love you until the end of time.” It had been cheesy and goofy but it was enough. 

And now as Steve reaches for Bucky's hand while they watch Sam and Natasha have their first dance, Bucky knows that it's still true. 

“Come on,” Steve says, pulling Bucky down a hallway after speeches and drinks and dinner.

He brings Bucky out of the building to a playground a ways down the property. Steve sits himself on the swing. Bucky sits down next to him. 

Steve drags his feet on the sandy dirt. “I still know you. I still like you,” he pushes his swing sideways and knocks into Bucky’s, giggling. Bucky can’t help but giggle in return. Suddenly it feels like they’re eight years old again. “The _best man_. I still owe you. I still know you.” 

“You’re the real best man here,” Bucky tells him. 

“Yeah, in a size too small.” 

Bucky laughs, “What are we doing?” 

“Being bad friends. Playing hooky at our best friends’ wedding. Pretending tomorrow will never come.” 

“You got that right.” 

“If you're being bad friends then we’re being bad hosts,” Bucky hears Natasha say. He turns to see her and Sam walking towards them hand in hand, Sam carrying her shoes. “It's loud in there.”

“Nat’s family can't dance.” Sam says, sitting himself down in the only open swing next to Steve. Natasha sits on his lap and Sam wraps his arms around her. “You're gonna get your dress all sandy, Nat.” 

“Oh well,” she says. She moves her skirt a little and tucks it under a leg of Sam's trousers.“This is where I want to be.” 

Bucky smiles, “You guys having a good time?” 

The crickets chirp around them but besides that, the night is completely quiet spare their feet in the sand and the rusty whining of the swings. “Now we are,” Sam says. He leans up and gives Natasha a kiss on the back of her neck. She smiles and turns her head a little to kiss him on the mouth, just once. 

Steve's swing jostles as he gets up and walks over to Bucky's swing. He slows it with his hands before climbing onto Bucky's lap. Bucky wraps his hands around Steve's middle and laughs softly. “What? It looked cozy.” 

“For you, maybe.”

“Shut up, Barnes,” Sam tells him, and with that it’s just the four of them swinging in silence again. The four of them hanging out on some rusty swing set like they have hundreds of times before. Bucky tucks his face into the back of Steve's neck and breathes, willing his heart to slow down just a little. They used to do this back when they were younger, watching the cars and people pass the playground they were illegally sitting in. They watched it all night. They grew up in spite of it.

Bucky drives Steve to the airport the next morning. He walks holding Steve's hand to the gate. Steve pulls him close and whispers in his ear, “So this is it huh? You're it?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says into the side of Steve's neck.

“After all that I've put you through?”

“Come home. I want my blanket fort,” Bucky tells him. “I'm done being afraid. I'm tired.”

“I want to let go,” Steve tells him, holding onto him tightly. “I'm ready to give in. I'm done being afraid too.”

“You have to promise me,” Bucky tells him. He pokes Steve in the chest. “You promise me that you're done leaving. I don't deserve that. You tell me how you feel and you stay no matter what. Promise me right now.”

“I promise, Buck. I promise.”

He kisses Steve soft and sweet, in front of God and the TSA. When Steve waves goodbye, Bucky smiles and waves back.

** Winter-then  **

When Bucky first lost Steve, it felt like winter coming early. 

“You're going to be okay,” Natasha had told him. 

“You can get through this,” Sam had said. 

His mom had hugged him tight and said for the first time, “I know how much you loved him.” Bucky had looked into her eyes and felt just as small as he did when he was twelve and she was telling him that Steve was sick. She knew then, how much Bucky really loved Steve. She had to have. 

_Now my heart is returned to sister winter,_ Bucky thinks. _Now my heart is as cold as ice_.

Bucky spends a lot of time writing. He used to write these funny little stories to go along with Steve's drawings. He's always liked it and now he finds that it's a really nice way to get himself out of his head for a while. He creates worlds about knights and dragons. He creates worlds about scuba dives getting chased by monstrous sharks. He takes a creative writing class his second semester at NYU. In the class, their main assignment is to write a short story with a heroic figure. It shouldn't be a problem for Bucky, since he's written them before for fun. He's surprised when he finds himself stumped.

The week before the first section of the short story is due, Bucky decides to spend the weekend at his parents house. He's looking for his better winter coat in his closet when something falls out- a folded up piece of paper. Bucky unfolds it carefully, the edges of it are worn and well-loved. Inside he finds Steve's recreation of Natasha's Captain America. Bucky doesn't know if his feet actually give out on him, but he sits down so hard his butt makes a loud noise on the ground. 

“Cap,” Bucky mumbles, absentmindedly stroking his fingers over the lines that Steve's pencil had made years ago. Bucky gasps when the idea comes into his head. He races downstairs to where his computer is before flopping on his bed. He doesn't stop writing for what feels like a week. 

Bucky gives Captain America an enemy right away. He doesn't get the same potion as Cap, instead getting something that worked sort of similarly. He’s fast, strong and has a metal arm. 

Bucky names him The Winter Soldier. 

The Soldier and Cap enter a ruthless battle before Cap tears his mask off and realizes that it's his long lost best friend. The story ends with Cap deciding to go look for his best friend, who he realizes has been brainwashed. 

Bucky gets an A and changes his major to creative writing as soon as he can. What he doesn't do, is think about how he wishes that Steve would come back and look for him. 

** Winter-now **

Fall turns over to winter all at once this year. Bucky knows it's not because Steve's gone again, but he can't help but make the connection in his mind. 

He keeps his hope as the days pass. _I'm done being afraid_ , Steve had said. Bucky kno _w_ s he meant it. He's coming home. Bucky decides to crack open his old Captain America short story. He writes a sequel where Winter and Cap reunite. Cap helps Winter regain his memories and the two of them live happily ever after, fighting crime. He doesn't lose faith. He and Steve talk, and every time Steve mentions something, anything that hints he's getting ready Bucky's heart feels like it's going to burst. Steve keeps apologizing, telling Bucky again and again that he wants them again. Bucky believes him. Steve draws him pictures and sends them to Bucky. One time he sends Bucky a picture of the moon with the caption, “I'll paint this on our bedroom ceiling if you want.” Bucky knows that this is Steve working for what he wants. He knows that Steve wants him and wants him to be okay. Bucky wants that too. 

He prays to a God that he didn't pray to much too often before recently. He finds that he missed it. 

_Come on life,_

_Come on Lord,_

_Make it right,_

_Make it yours._

He goes and buys two blankets and for a week he works in the world’s tiniest blanket fort. He's no astronaut, but he doesn't think that Steve will mind too much. Because in every season of his life, Steve was there. Steve's been Bucky's biggest constant, whether he was causing Bucky pain or joy- he was there. Call it fate, call it stupidity but all the best times of Bucky's life were leading up to this. The simple three knocks on his front door on this Saturday morning. He walks to his front door and opens it.

“Hey.”

“You busy?” Steve asks. 

“I was making a blanket fort, but I guess I can take a little break.”

“You've always been shit at blanket forts,” Steve says. “Luckily I brought some supplies. I hand selected each blanket based on our eight-year-old selves’ aspirations. I think you'll enjoy the one with moons on it. 

Bucky sees the bags around Steve's feet and smiles so big his cheeks hurt. He says, “I've gotten better, but I could always use your help

Steve smiles, “What if I told you I was still in love with us.” He repeats what he told Bucky over the summer. Steve breathes in, then out. He says, “What if I told you I was still in love with you. What if I told you I was sorry and I'm not scared anymore.”

Bucky takes a step closer to him. He reaches out and strokes Steve's face gently. Steve leans into it, still smiling. “I’d tell you that I still loved you too. That I've somehow managed to fall in love with you all over again. That I never stopped loving you. 

“I suck at emotions,” Steve says, a little breathless. “I never learned to cook but I'm really good at cleaning. I snore too.”

“I don't mind,” Bucky says, running his thumbs over Steve's cheeks.

“I've made a lot of mistakes.”

“I don't mind.”

“Can I come in?” Steve asks. “It's so cold out I might never leave.”

Bucky gives him a little laugh, “You promise?”

“Yeah, yes. I'm never leaving you again, Bucky Barnes.” Steve pushes Bucky's hair off of his forehead and asks, “You wanna get married?”

“Now? Why?”

“‘Cause I love you and I'm nev _e_ r gonna stop. Plus, I just really wanna kiss you on the mouth.”

“Lets just skip to that part, then. We can come back to the marriage part later.” 

Steve leans up and kisses him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Special screaming thank yous to my beta readers and friends for the motivation!!! Follow me on tumblr.


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